Free Cell by Robin Cook

definitely some truth in what you say.”
    â€œI always had you pegged for a GP or an internist. I never suspected radiology. What motivated you?”
    â€œI don’t think anything really happened,” George said. Suddenly he could hear Kasey’s voice in his head. She had helped him understand his career motivations, namely that he had gone into medicine in order to feel worthy of people’s respect. The issue stemmed from a vain attempt to gain his stepfather’s respect. He wasn’t sure he was up to sharing that now with Paula.
    â€œWell, it is a big difference from the way you talked in our second year.”
    â€œTo be truthful, the farther along in medicine I went, the less tolerance I had for direct patient contact. It was a surprise. Actually, at first I wondered if I was really that shallow. Maybe it was because I got the feeling I was coming down with every disease I encountered.”
    â€œThat happened to all of us, even if we didn’t talk about it.”
    â€œIt happened to you, too?”
    â€œAbsolutely. It’s human. Your interest in radiology had to come from something else. When we were first introduced to it, I was intimidated,” Paula said. “Were you?”
    â€œI liked it from the word ‘go’!” George said. “I was intrigued by its definitiveness. It could make a real diagnosis that could lead to definitive treatment, especially with radiology becoming more interventional.”
    â€œWell, there you go,” Paula said. “That makes sense.”
    â€œTo be completely honest, someone told me that I have too much empathy and that I needed a specialty that distanced me a little from my patients so I could be objective. Like, I don’t know how people can become oncologists. All the more power to them. I couldn’t do it. No way.”
    â€œThat I can relate to as well, even more than the hypochondriasis. Thanks for being honest.”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” George said. He checked his watch and winced. “Well, thanks again for inviting me to this presentation. Now I have to get back to the hospital for sure.”
    She gave him a brief hug good-bye before he headed for the door.
    â€œKeep the idea open of your coming over to my house on Saturday, Dr. Honesty,” she called after him.

7
    CENTURY PLAZA HOTEL
    CENTURY CITY, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
    MONDAY, JUNE 30, 2014, 11:42 A.M.
    L ewis Langley terminated the call and pocketed his phone. He was troubled. He scanned the room, looking for Bradley Thorn. He spotted him holding court with two hedge fund managers whose faces he recognized from their frequent appearances on financial shows. He knew Thorn would be pissed but Langley didn’t want to waste any time. He pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the CEO’s side. Thorn reluctantly turned to him, irritated at the interruption.
    â€œI need a moment,” Langley whispered in Thorn’s ear.
    â€œNow? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m busy.”
    Langley just stared at him, raising a single eyebrow.
    Thorn hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was step away from the potential investors standing in front of him, but Langley looked upset. In private Thorn joked that his dealings with Langley were similar to Pope Julius II’s dealings with Michelangelo. Langley was a genius but could be a pain in the ass.
    â€œExcuse me, gentlemen, I’ll be right back,” Thorn said, following his tech manager.
    â€œIt better be good,” Thorn said quietly. “They were eating out of my hand.”
    â€œI just became aware of something. I don’t want to rain on our parade, but my IT head just reported that a bug seems to have appeared in the iDoc application. Reappeared, actually.”
    Thorn’s face turned hostile. Langley could tell that this was the last thing his boss wanted to hear, especially in the present company. But Langley didn’t care.